


never painted by the numbers

by bartons



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, F/M, Getting Back Together, Inspired by a Reddit Post, M/M, Might add more tags, Nat’s still a spy, Olympic archer! Clint, Protective Barney Barton, background sambucky - Freeform, or at least he tries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26661931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bartons/pseuds/bartons
Summary: Clint fakes amnesia for a date with his ex, it goes relatively well.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	never painted by the numbers

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this reddit post](https://pastebin.com/Ww8PsrfN) thanks to [Winterhawk616](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterhawk616/pseuds/Winterhawk616) !! All the love to [hopespym](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopespym) for her support !! This is my first ClintNat fic, I really hope I’m not out of my league, please enjoy <3

* * *

“You _what?”_

Clint exhales sharply through his nose, staring back at his brother just as intensely. “Doesn’t matter. She asked me out.”

“Back up,” Barney speaks, taking Clint’s beer away as some sort of punishment, Clint couldn’t care less.

“I just… I didn’t know what to say! I always thought that if I ever so saw her again I’d gloat and talk myself up to show her what she’s missed by leaving me but she is so beautiful _,_ Barn _. so. fucking. beautiful_ ,” Clint says, banging his head on the bar between him and Barney for emphasis. Barney still looks incredulous and concerned when Clint lifted his head.

“So you told her you don’t remember her?”

“Yes.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Barney asks quietly, “Nevermind, don’t answer that, I don’t have time,” he dismisses his brother by shuffling away to get some regulars their drinks.

But then Kate barges back from the kitchen’s door, “So, Barney has the braincell today, huh?”

He huffs and reaches for his drink.

“Why did you-“

“I don’t know, Katie,” he replies before she finishes her questions, “It’s just… I was struck. She just appeared outta nowhere looking like a fuckin’ goddess — I’m just grateful I even _managed_ a word, I know what I said wasn’t the dumbest thing that could’ve gotten out of my mouth, I could’ve gotten on my knees and begged her to take me back, don’t think I was ever above that,” he says, taking a sip of beer as Kate hums thoughtfully.

“Maybe she has a spell on you or something,” Kate says, Clint rolls his eyes and takes a swig of his beer.

“If there’s a spell surely I couldn’t have lied.”

She just cocks her head, brows furrowed, “So, are you going?”

“Of course,” he says, “and I’ll come clean.”

“You’re not going,” Barney says, leaning on the counter after serving the drinks, “When will you realize that she did not break up with you because you were boring?”

“When she says otherwise.”

“It was just an excuse she came up with, Clint. A dumb one that should’ve made you fall out of _love_ or whatever, how long has it been? You moped for a whole damn year I’m not gonna be here for ya this time.”

“There won’t be a ‘this time’, if she’s not upset with my lie and we do go on more dates… I-“ he took a deep breath, “Fuck I forgot how relationships work.”

“As if you had ever known,” Kate snorted, crossing her arms, “Don’t be a dummy Barton, you’re asking for another heartbreak, from the _same_ woman. As if there is no one out there that would be delighted to break your fragile heart.”

“My heart isn’t fragile,” he grumbles.

“Oh, please,” Barney scoffs and removes a coaster to show Clint the engraved _nat + clint_ in a heart he made when him and Barney first bought the bar a year after the breakup, “Look how fragile,” he grabs a knife and twists it towards the bartop, Clint quickly covers it with his hand and glares daggers into his brother.

Barney stops, “Don’t cover it with your hand, asshole.”

“Stopped you, didn’t it?” Barney huffs and returns the knife to its place, “And this proved nothing.”

Barney squares he shoulders.

Kate sighs in exasperation at their bickering, “So, when’s your date?”

“There is no date,” says Barney.

“Tomorrow,” Clint says in a cheery tone, grinning at Kate, “We’re going to see a movie, I gave her my number.”

“Again.”

“Yes, _again_. Problem?”

“Many,” Barney replies, prompting Clint to roll his eyes as Kate stalks away from them, “I just, I met her once, she’s sketchy as hell, older than you _and_ the breakup was bullshit.”

“You’re bullshit.”

“Mature, Clint.”

“Makes one of us,” Clint shoots back, Barney glares, “I’m going on the date, she’s a good person, I’ll tell her the truth and if what you’re saying is true… then maybe she’ll tell me why she broke up with me _seven_ years ago, people change.”

Barney crosses his arms, looking all the more admant against his brother going on the date, “Plus I’m not a fucking kid I don’t need you to tell me what to do.”

“You’re acting like one.”

Clint glares, “I’m leaving.”

“You have a shift tonight,” Barney calls out after him, Clint flips him the bird and continues on his way out of their bar. He’ll just take a nap and come back to work in a few hours.

***

She shows up the next day, a part of Clint thought she really wouldn’t. He’s the one with the fake amnesia after all, she remembers how much he used to bore her— dammit, he did not bore her, that _was_ a fake excuse, he realized years ago but he will continue to act as if it isn’t just for the sake of contradicting Barney and giving Natasha the benefit of the doubt.

He doesn’t want to go there, doesn’t want to think about what happened _seven_ years ago because he shouldn’t, because as far as Natasha knows, he does not even remember what happened seven years ago.

Which is… waiting in line for movie snacks by her side, his thoughts drift to thinking about how it isn’t fair that she has not brought their past up, that’s a dirty move isn’t it? Should he say something -- oh boy he can’t. Oh god what has he gotten himself into? What the hell was he think—

“Barton, you with me?”

He shakes the thoughts away and smiles softly at her, “Yeah, I’m good. Just, haven’t been on a date in a while, how weird is it to share popcorn?”

She chuckles, he tries to not break eye contact out of nervousness, Natasha breaks it to glare at the three kids taking forever to order before them. “It is okay. Though only if you want caramel, ‘cause the whole artificial butter thing is just… disgusting.”

He raises his brows, “It’s not really butter?”

Natasha laughs and shakes her head, “No it’s fake, kinda obvious with how it never hardens.”

“Huh,” he thinks about it then scrunches his face in disgust at the butter dispenser on the counter, “yuck.”

“I know,” Natasha smiles fondly at him, “come on,” she pulls him along by clutching on the sleeve of his light sweater when the children finally move on, the pair step up to the counter. She orders two iced sodas and looks at Clint when she orders a large caramel, he grins and then they wait for their snacks.

“So what are we watching?” She finally asks, Clint lightens and takes the two tickets out of his back pocket, he hands them to her.

“The Spy Who Dumped Me,” he says, “Heard it’s funny, the title's kinda intriguing.” Natasha just stares at the tickets and then at him with a look he can’t for the life of him ever decipher, but it sends him back to feeling self-conscious anyway, he shifts, “Either way we’re having fun.”

She finally smiles as she nods, “I am already,” she hands him a ticket and keeps hers in hand as their order finally arrives, “Come on, we’re allowed to be two minutes early.” He grins and grabs the huge bucket of popcorn, then leads the way to theater room number 7 like it reads on their tickets.

Clint enjoys the movie, Natasha says it has its moments but she does not complain much about it even though she looks indifferent as the movie plays, Clint doesn’t fail to notice how she only laughs when he does, and how she glares at him when he sips too loud but it would be a lie if he said he doesn’t enjoy annoying her like that. It’s familiar.

Nothing has changed and it’s awfully comforting, it really shouldn’t be.

He almost screws up, multiple times, like when she took his hand and led him out of the cinema. He wants, so badly _,_ to pull her close and show her just how much he missed her with a kiss worthy of being viewed on all of the big screens inside the building they have just left.

But he can’t.

Because he’s a fucking idiot, he needs to come clean, so that he can get his kiss but right now Natasha is going on and on about restaurants and he should probably listen but, it’s all too much.

He needs to kick a garbage can and pretend it’s him from two days ago.

Fuck.

She stops by the next building and grabs his chin to direct him into looking at her, he stops breathing, “You always think too loudly.”

He furrows his brows, “Like-“

“Like you make it obvious that there’s a mess in your head, and I understand if there is, I mean… memories returning? You can talk to me.”

He takes a deep breath, this is a good moment, the _perfect_ moment to come clean. He can say yes, he can say _yes, I remembered going out with you before._ But what if, what if she doesn’t want him to remember her? Is that a bad thing?

Oh he should kiss her! Boy, she is so beautiful up close — how do people normally breathe?

“Hey,” she speaks softly, her hand moving to his cheek as she shakes his head gently, “why are you panicking.”

“I’m not pa- you, uh, we should get pizza!” he says, quickly stepping back and taking careful steady breaths as he smiles.

She looks at him with even more concern, then smiles back, “Pizza, of course, how didn’t I think of that,” she chuckles, he grins, “I still go to the place you used to take me to.”

“I don’t take many dates to pizza places, but I remember doing so once… was it you?”

Oh genius, baby steps!

She gives him a lopsided smile as she walks by his side down the street, he’s not sure if they’re going in the right direction and he couldn’t care less, “Bet that made me special, hense you remembering the date.”

“Exactly,” he grins, then he feels guilty.

She believes he really lost his memory doesn’t she? He’s going too far, he _has_ to tell her before she realizes herself because he knows she’s smart, and if she hasn’t figured it out then she probably will in a second or two so— “I’m remembering a lot about you.”

She lights up, and he high-fives himself mentally.

“Yeah? How did you… I mean I remember you being clumsy as hell but, how did it happen?” She asks, and he can answer that, he definitely has enough experience in the ‘head trauma injuries’ department to answer that.

But he’ll be honest — as honest as he can be without coming clean — he did stupidly point at a specific scar on his forehead when he told her, and that injury didn’t cause any head trauma, let alone memory loss… it was just a nasty cut from a training mishap, he needs to add more. Natasha is smart.

“Got it while training for the Olympics,” he answers, “I honestly don’t remember how exactly but it wasn’t the cut that caused it, I fell pretty bad.”

Natasha hums, “I’ve heard about you participating,” she says, smiling, “Wished I still had your number to congratulate you and then did again four years later.”

She smiles at him, it’s a private and awfully familiar smile, one that she gives him when he’s — oh fuck, he’s blushing, _fuck._

“Thank you,” he manages, stuffing his hands into his pants’ pockets, “It was fun.”

“I’ll bet, and how are you dealing with fame?”

He snorts, “There’s not much fame, just a few aspiring little archers noticing me every now and then, it’s nice to see people still interested in it, did a few interviews.”

She nodded along as they walked, he doesn’t know when they changed their path but it’s almost to the pizza place.

“You wanna have it take-out?” he asks her, she shakes her head.

“I haven’t been out much, so I’m enjoying this. Their outdoor seating area isn’t bad, unless the weather is bothering you? A sweater in July?”

He chuckled, lifting his shoulders, “Nah, I like the weather, it’s not too warm, neither is my sweater, I’m good.”

Their conversation goes on and on even while waiting for their food, it’s comfortable and so familiar that he has almost forgotten his problem and seven years of separation felt like seven month, catching up wasn’t difficult. He tries not to think about what she said back then, he really does, but she does seem to find his life interesting and maybe him too, it makes him hopeful.

Come to think of it, if the breakup was bullshit he has more to worry about. Because what was it that was so bad about him that she didn’t even just leave but lied about it? Is it something that has no room to improve?

He’s thinking too much again as he walks Natasha into her apartment building, she doesn’t comment this time, but he snaps himself out of it. He’ll think more about it at 3AM in bed after his shift at the bar.

“So, I had so much fun,” she says as she picks her keys out of her purse, Clint grins and bounces lightly on his heels on the carpeted floors of the hallway.

“Me too,” he says, he wants to say more, _so_ much more but he shuts his trap before he could start babbling. Good.

She smiles at him — she’s beautiful, a part of him might die if she doesn’t take him inside which is dumb because he has work, dammit — as she pushes the door open, he takes a deep breath. There’s an unreadable tension that makes him want to crawl into the vents.

“I know you’re lying,” she says, he freezes.

“No, I really did have fun.” Natasha rolls her eyes, but she still has a lopsided smile on her face that Clint wishes he could read.

“The amnesia.”

Well, fuck.

“But it’s alright, don’t panic about it, we can… talk about it say… breakfast on Saturday?” she asks, he blinks at her, she raises a brow.

“Like, a date?”

“Yes, Clint, a date. Don’t… you can explain then, I’m not upset, just very confused,” Natasha says, “Is that good?” He feels baffled, like he should say no because he lied and Natasha deserves better, but he’s nodding like an idiot with no input from his brain.

She smiles, “Good,” and she’s grabbing the collar of his sweater to pull him in for a kiss, he kisses back and probably dies for a second, but it’s all good.

So very good.

He let out a breath when they’re a step away, trying not to look as stunned as he feels, but Natasha’s proud smile says he’s failing, “Date on Saturday, got it.”

She chuckles, “I really missed you, text me when you get home?” he nods, she gives his hand a squeeze then he stupidly waves at her as she closes the door behind herself.

He lets out a deep breath.

That was a successful date, right? He can’t tell, but he is grinning like it’s one as he walks back to the bar. The chipper mood won’t last but he’ll enjoy it while it does.

He’s getting a second date!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading !!


End file.
